


Drunk Enough To Call You

by Sipsthytea



Series: Best bois Billy and Steve [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: BIlly loves steve, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Billy Hargrove Redemption, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Boys Kissing, But Billy fixes it, But he's trying, Drunk calls, Gay Billy Hargrove, I Love You, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Out of Character, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve loves Billy, Swearing, That's a special word for them, There's nothing here sorry folks, These boys are so in love, They just need time, Unrequited Hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 19:25:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19893067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sipsthytea/pseuds/Sipsthytea
Summary: Not only was I drunk and alone but I was also heartbroken. Now isn’t that just rich. Over who? The one, the only, Steve fucking Harrington.A dry laugh escapes my throat at the thought of that asshole. Steve Harrington with his stupid hair and stupid face and stupid  smile. I feel just about as pathetic as my old man, and that was saying something.I was almost drunk enough to call the bastard. Almost, but not quite. However, the regret and sadness was beginning to kick in.





	Drunk Enough To Call You

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this, I'm kinda proud of it.  
> Also, mentions of past abuse, and there are swears in here, just a small P.S.A  
> (Sorry for any mistakes or errors.)

It was the same goddamn story. The same pathetic story, god it was so pathetic I could cry. Here I was, Billy Hargrove drunk and alone on Christmas eve.  
  
But wait, it gets worse, how?  
  
  
A dry laugh escapes my throat at the thought of that asshole. Steve Harrington with his stupid hair and stupid face and stupid smile. I feel just about as pathetic as my old man, and that was saying something.  
  
“Merry Christmas to me and you…” I whispered as I downed the whiskey in my hand, “Now just me…”  
  
I was almost drunk enough to call the bastard. Almost, but not quite. However, the regret and sadness was beginning to kick in.  
  
The way I missed those hot summer nights, when me and Steve were trapped in the backseat of my Camaro, bodies pressed against each other in the dead of night. Dirty whispers trapped between us, filling the car.  
  
Or even when Steve would kiss me. Soft and gentle, a smooth press of his lips against mine. The way it would make my head spin and my heart burn. The way it seemed to make me float, and fall into those stupid high school clichés. “Butterfly Kisses,” is what I called them.  
  
Or those nights when we would drive and drive, letting laughter, Metallica, and the midnight breeze flow through the car. When we’d stop at the cliff overlooking Hawkins and just sit there. Leaning against the hood of my car as we did that cliché movie shit. Watching the moonlight seemingly made Steve look all the more beautiful. Whispering, “I love you,” against his lips. Making plans to leave this small town. To where? That didn’t matter as long as it was us, together.  
  
That’s the shit I missed, it’s what I craved, but I couldn’t have that.  
  
Because I was scared, scared that I would be like my old man. Scared I'll hurt him the way he hurt my mom. So, I did the only thing I knew how to do, I broke him. I ran away from him, and I left him. Walking away like it didn’t hurt to see the betrayal swimming in those brown orbs. Walking away with a lit cigarette and tears in my eyes, turning away before Steve could see either one. Listening as Steve cursed at me, then begged me to stay, then broke down. I walked away from him, and eventually I walked away from Hawkins. Only, now the way I planned, not with Steve by my side.  
  
I’d gotten accepted to a college in Cali, and moved back there. I screwed around with everyone I could, girls and guys. Trying to forget Steve, to forget the way I still burned to his love. For his stupid butterfly kisses.  
  
I was home for the winter break, but god, now, I just wanted to leave again. To walk away from the hurt. I downed a few more shots of whisky.  
  
Now, I was definitely drunk enough to call him.  
  
With a grunt, I pushed myself from the ragged couch I had been sulking on. Stumbling through the kitchen to get to the phone, once I reached it I hoped. I hoped for Steve, hoping he hadn’t changed his number.  
  
There was a dial tone, and my heart began to race.  
  
There was a pause, and my heart stuttered.  
  
Then there was an answer, and my heart exploded, “Hello?”  
  
I was silent, frozen by that stupidly beautiful voice.  
  
“Hello? Is someone there?”  
  
What was I supposed to say?  
  
“Hellooooo?”  
  
What do you say to the love of your life that you dumped because you were scared?  
  
My heart was hammering, “Ok…then…?”  
  
“Hey,” I whispered, but it came out as a rasp.  
  
“Oh! Someone is there...who is it?” Steve's voice was so genuine it made my head spin.  
  
I paused, “It’s Billy...Billy Hargrove.”  
  
There was silence on the other line and a sharp intake of air.  
  
“What do you want?” The words were so venom soaked I flinched.  
  
“J-Just wanted to call ‘n say Merry Christmas,” I hiccupped.  
  
“Are-Are you drunk?” He questioned with a sigh.  
  
“Yeah, but drunk enough to call you,” I slurred with a laugh.  
  
Steve was silent, for a moment I thought he hung up.  
  
“Why? Why would you call me?” He asked, his voice was so tiny and small it made me want to cry.  
  
“Why? T-that’s a stupid question, Harrington. I love you, you ask that question like, I'm not in love with you.” I drawled.  
  
“Billy,” he sounded exasperated, “You-You don’t mean it, you’re drunk out of your mind, it’s not-” I cut him off.  
  
“No!” I huffed, “I do love you, and I know I do b-because I didn’t wanna hurt you, so-so I let you go,” my voice began to shake with tears, “I love you Steve Harrington. With- With your stupid fucking hair and stupid face. I just love you, all of you. You and your butterfly kisses, I love you. I love you and I miss you.”  
  
The other line was silent, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop talking, the whisky letting me let it all out.  
  
“And ‘m not shitting you, ‘m not, Steve. I love you, I left you ‘cause I was scared that I would treat yo the way he treated my mom, I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you, Pretty Boy, n-no not you, I love you”  
  
The line was silent, the silence was too much t was to loud. My stomach twisted in knots.  
  
“I-I...Steve, p-please s-say something, anything…” But there was just silence.  
  
Then the line disconnected. I let out a bitter laugh which eventually led to sobs.  
  
“I-I did it, I’m an old man,” with a shout I threw the phone. I’d get shit about it later, but that didn't matter.  
  
I searched around the room trying to locate my whisky bottle. I gripped it in my hand and slid down the hallway wall.  
  
Letting the tears burn down my cheeks, and sobs shake my body. At this point I allowed myself to sulk, to feel the pain of losing Steve Harrington. God, it sucked, I sat there for what seemed like hours, crying and drinking, and crying some more.  
  
Until, the door swung open. I let my head fall to the side, trying my best to see who it was. Maybe it was Max or even my dad.  
  
Maybe it was a burglar, at this point it didn’t matter. I heard footsteps approach the hallway. I was silent and let my sobs turn into soft cries as I folded my knees into my chest, folding my arms over my knees and letting myself burry my face into my forearms.  
  
The footsteps stopped in front of me and I groaned, “Go away.”  
  
Hands began to pull my arms away from my face and I swatted them away, “I said, Go. Away…”I trailed off as I looked up.  
  
Steve stood there, tears falling down his face, cheeks red and chest heaving. Like he’d just been running.  
  
“Steve…” I whispered, I was scared, so scared. Scared that if I spoke to loud Steve would go away.  
  
“Billy…” he whispered back, voice just as soft. He fell to his knees in front of me and I stared at him.  
  
I reached my hand out to touch him, I was shaking. “Steve...my Steve…”  
  
My hand collided with his cheek softly, and I let out a small gasp as he leaned into my touch.  
  
“Billy,” he responded, “My Billy…”  
  
Steve Harrington, my Steve Harrington was here for me.  
  
“Don’t leave me,” Steve whispered, “P-Please…”   
Steve's tears were caught by my fingers as I wiped them away.  
  
“I won’t not anymore,” I whispered. I hugged him.  
  
‘B-Billy…” He cried.  
  
I held onto him, fingers gripping his shoulders, sobs muffled as I cried into his neck.  
  
“ ‘M sorry, Steve, ‘m so sorry,” I sobbed, I couldn’t stop. He just pulled me closer, always closer.  
  
I looked up and kissed him, it felt like I had been deprived of water for years. Like I had lost this spark in my life, the beat in my heart and Steve Harrington had brought it back. The kiss was soft and steady, just like Steve, a promise.  
  
He responded with his own kiss that set me aflame, a butterfly kiss.  
  
Gently, he cradled my face and whispered with a small laugh, “You are so drunk, Billy Hargrove.”  
  
“Drunk enough to call you.”  
  
“Yeah...whatever,” he whispered with a hint of a smile, pulling me in for another butterfly kiss.  
  
Somewhere among the kiss, “I love you was promised, not said, but promised. It was ok, because now we had forever to say it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank You for reading, it means a lot to me.  
> Leave a comment on your thoughts, suggestions, or any future stories you'd like me to write.  
> Thanks <3


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